Charge of Fraud Ends High Life Of Success Model;37-Year-Old Accused in Scam That Bilked Friends of Millions With Promises of Huge Profits

Dennis L. and Georgia (Gigi) Helliwell were nothing if not respectable. From their Brooklyn Heights brownstone with its art and antiques, to the chauffeured rides to the theater, the taste for Bouley and the Four Seasons and fine designer clothes, they were the picture of an upward-bound couple in their 30's enjoying the best New York had to offer.

They made social connections and he appeared in a magazine for the rich, and of course they did the duty of the rich, raising money for the Boy Scouts and a victims' rights group and serving on charitable boards. And there was the respectability earned with gifts to friends and an ever present eagerness to be helpful.

What could be more generous, for example, than the offer by Mr. Helliwell, an investment marketer and adviser, to share with those closest to him his access to a special investment fund at Marine Midland Bank? There, they recall he told them, their money could earn 18 to 20 percent a year in interest, risk free! This was up to three times the prevailing rate for a no-risk return, so it is not surprising that many of his relatives and friends were among the 30 to 50 people reported to have invested at least $4 million in the fund over the last decade.

So much for respectability. Mr. Helliwell, a 37-year-old native of the Syracuse area, now faces a Federal fraud indictment charging that the special fund never existed and that the money entrusted to him was used to sustain the fashionable way of life and connections he and his wife enjoyed. The statements he issued showing accounts swelling impressively were, prosecutors say, figments of a felonious imagination.

The indictment sketches a scheme that, if true, would stand out in the annals of scams and cons for its vigor and cold-bloodedness. Unlike most pyramid schemes, which fall apart fairly rapidly as investors demand their nonexistent profits, this one lasted about 10 years, beginning in 1985, Federal prosecutors in Brooklyn say. And, they say, many if not most of the victims were close friends and family of the Helliwells.

J. Michael Collard, for example, was Mr. Helliwell's best friend. Over the years, he handed over $700,000. Now most of it is apparently gone. When he finally did ask for some of his money last November, he got $30,000 worth of checks from Mr. Helliwell, and they all bounced.

Court-supervised steps are being taken to value and sell the Helliwells' abundant possessions in an effort to reimburse the investors. But lawyers involved in the case say the proceeds of any such sales will probably fall far short of the amount owed.

"I think it's disgusting, very shocking, that someone I thought I knew so well is a pathological liar," said Dr. Collard, a 41-year-old dentist from Buffalo.

Others say they are embarrassed to have been duped, and that their friend or relative seems to be a con man. Because they are embarrassed, some of them won't discuss the matter without a promise that their names will not be used.

"It's a crushing blow to have someone you trusted take you like this," said one of them, a Massachusetts relative of Mrs. Helliwell who with his wife invested more than $200,000 and has received nothing back. "That's what's so hard and wrenching."

This ma said that Mrs. Helliwell's parents, too, had invested a large amount of money with their son-in-law, and he added bitterly, "This has ruined our whole family."

"One might look somewhat skeptically on an investor viewing a hoped-for 18 percent or more return as a conservative investment," Mr. Hoffman said. "You will find a number of these people were very experienced investors."

But Dr. Collard, for one, insisted, "I have no business knowledge at all."

Mr. Hoffman said that court restraints on lawyers' comments to the press prevented him from replying in detail. But he said, "In fact, there was a substantial amount of payment" to various investors over the years. He put this figure in one court proceeding at up to $1.5 million "as principal and interest."

Mr. Helliwell, who has been free on a $250,000 bond since his arrest in February, said he could not speak to a reporter, though he expressed concern about the impact the case would have on his daughters, 2 and 3 years old. If convicted, he is likely to face up to five years in prison.

Mark P. Ressler, an assistant United States attorney prosecuting the case, said that Mr. Helliwell's arrest was sparked by complaints to the Securities and Exchange Commission in January after checks he issued began bouncing. Aside from those to Dr. Collard, more than $100,000 worth of checks that Mr. Helliwell sent to his wife's sister and her husband also bounced, court records show.

Mrs. Helliwell, 37, has not been charged with any crimes, but Mr. Ressler told a magistrate in Federal District Court in Brooklyn that "the defendant's wife might well have been involved in the fraud scheme." Mr. Ressler described her as the vice president of the Helliwell Group, a financial advisory and fund-raising company that Mr. Helliwell formed last year and that the prosecutor termed "the corporate entity through which this defendant perpetrated his fraud" in its final year.

Mr. Hoffman said in an interview, "From everything I know about the case, and I think I know it relatively well, I don't think she would be charged with anything." Mrs. Helliwell said she had no comment.

The relative who spoke on condition of anonymity said: "I personally think she was conned, too. But at some point she did know, and the question is when. It's hard to believe she would take our money."

A spokesman for Marine Midland said the bank had been unaware of Mr. Helliwell's alleged fraud. "He was not authorized to use the Marine Midland name or letterhead" in connection with those purported activities, said the spokesman, Art Samansky. He said Mr. Helliwell had worked for the bank from 1982 to 1990 as an investment services officer in the private client unit.

Mr. Helliwell, a Niagara University graduate whom friends describe as outgoing, jovial and preppy, and his wife, a Smith College alumna who draws adjectives like "charming" and "cultured," were married in 1986. She is the daughter of Montgomery and Georgia Pooley, members of a socially prominent family in the Buffalo area. Mr. Helliwell was raised in a Syracuse suburb by an aunt and uncle, Irene and Burwell Glenny, after his mother's death when he was 7. His mother and father had earlier separated.

The authorities say that Mr. Helliwell appears to have come from an affluent background. Mr. Ressler said the Glenny family had a "sizable trust" held in Irene Glenny's name, but Mr. Hoffman said it just "throws off enough money" for the widowed Mrs. Glenny to live "very modestly."

In any case, modesty was not the style of Dennis and Gigi Helliwell. Investigators say their lavish ways were beyond their income. Mr. Hoffman said he did not know his client's income from Marine Midland or from Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette, the investment bank and brokerage where Mr. Helliwell worked until last year as a vice president in the investment services unit. Donaldson, Lufkin also said it knew nothing of his alleged fraud. Both companies declined to reveal his salary. Mrs. Helliwell, Dr. Collard said, worked "on and off" selling real estate.

But one prosecution affidavit said that when some victims demanded their money, Mr. Helliwell told them "that he had used a substantial portion of the misappropriated funds to purchase numerous pieces of artwork, antiques and jewelry." Investigators and lawyers declined to describe these, but Mr. Hoffman said in court that "the purchase of this stuff was probably somewhere between $2 million and $2.5 million," though he said the "resale value" was probably $1 million or less.

The Helliwells also accumulated other things: a reputation as good people volunteering for good causes, and some high-society connections. The Boy Scouts honored Mr. Helliwell for his fund-raising efforts for them. He was on the boards of various charities. He arranged the purchase of dinner tables at a benefit for the National Victim Center, founded by the children of Sunny von Bulow, the socialite who has long been in a coma that her husband, Claus, was accused and eventually acquitted of inducing.

Mrs. von Bulow's daughter, Ala Auersperg Isham, said she had agreed to Mr. Helliwell's request that she be the godmother of one of his daughters. "I know Dennis and like him," she said. "When you meet him, the impression he gives is of an awfully sweet guy."

Nancy Knox, a fashion press agent and friend of the Helliwells, similarly described them as "sweet, caring people who have done a lot of volunteer work."

Mr. Ressler, the prosecutor, put a different cast on the good works. Mr. Helliwell's "reputation as a man of charity," he contended, "was an essential part of his fraud. People were willing to trust him because of this."

Dr. Collard said he had also been impressed by Mr. Helliwell's inclusion in a 1991 article of M Inc., a defunct magazine for upscale men, that described how "a man can dress conservatively without sacrificing his sense of style." A picture of Mr. Helliwell in the magazine exuded success and prosperity.

Among victims who were not relatives and friends, investigators said, were those he solicited at various events of dental and medical societies. He reportedly gave various explanations of the special fund, telling one Connecticut dentist who invested $50,000 that Marine Midland used it to conduct trading activity in Hong Kong. A family friend in Massachusetts who said she had invested a substantial amount said he told her the money was used to finance "city projects in New York," like improving the waterfront.

The woman, Barbara Nicholson, a social worker and psychologist from Brookline, was asked in an interview if she had ever been skeptical of an investment that promised such fat returns without any risk. She had not been, she said, though now, "I ask myself why."

"But I've known Dennis since he was a little boy. It's difficult to think that someone who you think cares about you and you know all your life has taken your money."